


Duty

by wombuttress



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:25:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wombuttress/pseuds/wombuttress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is all just so stupid, Tabris thinks cantankerously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty

This is so stupid, Tabris thinks.

There’s blood and screaming just everywhere. Arcs of magic fly through the air, fire and lightning and pure spirit. There’s a few darkspawn left being dispatched, though she’s barely aware of them. They’re not important anymore. The big one’s about to bite it.

Gods, it even _looks_ stupid _._ Those big front teeth, like that bucktoothed baker’s boy she used to know. It’s not even scary anymore. Nothing is scary anymore.

There the dumb thing goes, arcing down to the ground with an almighty crash. But not quite dead, yet. Of course not. That would be too easy.

This would have been a wonderful time to hesitate. Consider the long life she had ahead of her. Think about running away.

She doe no such thing, because if the thought so much as drifted across her battle-wrung mind, she’d definitely run away. No doubt about it.

No pausing, now, move along. Slay the silly-looking dragon monster thing already.

Make it dramatic, though. Why not. Be the hero. Just like at the wedding. Ah, drama. Nothing more dramatic than seizing a greatsword left in the gut of a slain enemy, sprinting towards the beast, and leaping upon it to deal the final blow.

The problem being, of course, that at this point the physicality of the act was almost nothing. Her body is strong and lithe (and very, very young), and her muscle-memory is flawless. Leaping upon giant beasts ready for the slaying is practically second nature now. It left a lot to think about for a few moments.

I shouldn’t even have to do this, she thinks, pushing off the ground. Riordan was supposed to do it. Why’d he have to fail? Bastard. Bastard! Why should it have to be me?

I never even got to get married, she thinks, raising the greatsword.

Surely there was still a way out. Some way out. Maybe she’d get lucky. Yeah. It was still possible. She always found a way out. It was why she was trained in sneaking and backstabbing and not big fancy swords.

But here she was, with a big fancy sword, wasn’t she? You know you’re in deep when you’re wielding a big fancy sword.

The blade came down, once, twice.

She has a brief moment of regret, that she is alone now, the only Warden available to do this.

Oh, _he_ would probably do something _heroic._ Something _chivalrous._ For love, or…or something, even after the things he'd said. _He_ knew all about big fancy swords. Hero types. They were all like that. She had no patience for heroing. Heroing was stupid, she’d never get over how stupid it was, how stupid she was by extension. All this heroing, and falling in love with humans, and…and…

Stupid.

The thing flailed, convulsing in its death throes, throwing her off its neck. She landed badly. Probably sprained something. Maybe she ought to ask Wynne to look at it. It might be serious.

Hah, hah.

She hated how many chances this thing was giving her to throw away the sword and leave. Instead she picked it up again. Like a moron.

You have everything to live for. The world is so big. You’ll never see it all.

_eah, why not, let’s stab the greatsword in the dragon’s skull. Sounds like a good plan. Nice and dramatic.  
_

You don’t even care about duty, she thinks. Duty is stupid. You were going to run away from an obligation as tiny as a wedding. What the hell are you doing? What the _hell_ are you doing?

And now there is a beam of light. Of course. Perfect. Hey, everybody, pay attention! Look at this idiot, killing herself! My, what a spectacle!

The light starts hurting her eyes.

It’s not fair, she thinks. The tears blurring her vision finally start falling. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.

Sorry, dad, she thought. Sorry, cousins. I tried.

She can see, vaguely, out of the bright beam of mysterious magical energy, Wynne looking terribly confused. Oh, right. She doesn't know. She doesn't know what's going to happen. But she would understand. They'd spoken about this, about death. She'd understand. _Sorry, Wynne. Mom. Sorry I never actually called you mom. You were, though. You were._

Sten doesn’t look confused, because Sten gets it. Sacrifice. Purpose. All that shit she'd never cared about. _Sorry, Sten. I hope you find someone else to buy you paintings and argue with you_. And Shale doesn’t look like anything, because they’re made of stone, which is exactly why she’d wanted them along. Being made of stone. What a good idea. Why hadn’t she thought of it?

Trying to bring only the people who’d be the least sad about you dying. What an idea. The kind of idea only she would have, because she was—so—stupid.

Ugh, she can hear the bones of its skull twist and crack under the metal. Gross.

She can feel the corruption, more overwhelming than ever before. She can feel the monster’s soul flowing into her. She can feel herself dying.

_Sorry, Alistair. Couldn’t have you heroing this up.  
_

Not fair, she thinks, sinking to her knees. Not fair. I didn’t want to. I didn’t…I’m not…

This is all just so stupid.

_Sorry..._

The top of the tower explodes with light.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this in a fit of emotions over my own warden right after finishing Origins for the first time like....a year ago. She doesn't die in canon, but I had one save file where she did, and boy was that Upsetting
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://gayspacejew.tumblr.com/)  
> [my oc blog](http://pile-of-dragon-filth.tumblr.com/)


End file.
